


The Wingman Chronicles

by ShitpostingfromtheBarricade



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cosette - Freeform, Cosette POV, Enjolras - Freeform, Eponine - Freeform, F/F, Get-Together Fic, Grantaire - Freeform, It's not quite a crack fic, M/M, alternating pov, but it's on its way, enjoltaire - Freeform, eponine pov, nazi shaming, putting Enj and Ep in a room together is hilarious, subtle jab at enjonine fans, who honestly thinks Enj could ever date a woman?, Éposette - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 10:27:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15970445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShitpostingfromtheBarricade/pseuds/ShitpostingfromtheBarricade
Summary: Eponine and Grantaire try to wingman for one another at the theme park.  Unbeknownst to them, Cosette and Enjolras have the same idea.  Alt title: gays are terrible at flirting.Warning: vague description of sexual acts (in the form of pick-up lines), alcohol consumption, language





	The Wingman Chronicles

“Hey, that jacket looks nice.”

“Thanks, Courf told me—”

“Know where it’d look even better? Grantaire’s floor.”

Enjolras looks taken aback a moment but quickly recovers, making a face at Éponine as he bites the pancake off of his fork.

She and Grantaire had only decided the night prior to make the most of Enjolras’s weird four-person theme park excursion and wingman for one another. She doesn’t expect much to come from Grantaire’s efforts with Cosette on her behalf, but with Enjolras and Grantaire as blatantly gone for one another as they are, she figures that she is one well-placed pick-up line away from knocking them into each other’s beds.

She glances around, casting for her hopeless roommate and Cosette; her eyes fall on them as they cross the room back to them from…whatever they were doing. She resolutely doesn’t stare at the latter, wondering if Grantaire has begun his wingmanning escapades or not. They’re still speaking as they return with animated gestures and expressive features—and maybe she is staring at Cosette, but who could blame her when Cosette’s smile lights up a room the way it does?

“Did the chef have that much to say about their vegan options?” teases Enjolras. So that’s what they were doing. Éponine decides Enjolras owes her at least this much for tolerating his aggressively weird brand of flirting in her presence.

Cosette blushes prettily—of course she does, everything she does is pretty—and Grantaire might too, but she can’t be bothered to check. 

“Not quite,” answers Grantaire.

“They have water, juice, soda, fruit, and lettuce,” Cosette lists, counting off on her fingers. Éponine drags her eyes from that particular feature before her mind can wander too far.

“They don’t even serve beer until after 8,” complains Grantaire.

“That’s lame,” responds Éponine at the same time as Enjolras comments “That’s the law.”

She meets his eyes, raising her eyebrows. Today is clearly going to be fun.

“I just ordered some fruit,” says Cosette, breaking the tension, because she’s thoughtful and soft in all of the ways that Éponine is so definitively not. 

Grantaire’s got his work cut out for him today.

\---

The day has finally come, and Cosette isn’t sure if she’s more excited or nervous. 

It had been her idea, after all, to arrange the daytrip as a means by which she could spend time with Éponine and Enjolras could be with Grantaire. She’d let Enjolras suggest it so it would seem less suspicious, him being the normal instigator of their group activities. After months of pining, however, Cosette decided to take Enjolras’s love life into her own hands. Allowing Enjolras to help her with her own helpless crush was the only way to assure that he would go along with it, but to say she has little faith in her friend’s wingmanning abilities would be an insult to people she actually has little faith in. 

She looks ahead in the admissions line where Grantaire and Éponine currently stand, speaking with one another inaudibly. She and Éponine have almost nothing in common, Cosette thinks wistfully: where Cosette grew up in relative comfort, Éponine basically raised not only herself but also her siblings, getting her first job when she was still in high school and never stopping once even as she puts herself through university. She’s fierce and powerful in a way that Cosette has never had to be, jaded and world-worn in a way that makes Cosette feel nearly naïve. Cosette knows she’s a catch, but in the face of someone who scoffs in the face of innocence and superficial beauty, Cosette feels woefully average.

“Cosette,” Enjolras says, and from his tone Cosette assumes it isn’t the first time he’s said her name.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I said, Éponine was being really weird this morning.”

“How so?”

“She told me my jacket matches the floor in her and Grantaire’s apartment?”

“That is weird.”

\---

Éponine isn’t sure if she feels relieved or disappointed when Cosette immediately claims Grantaire for the morning upon entering the park. It follows the plan, and it’s true that the type of rides Cosette and Grantaire love turn Éponine’s stomach, but it takes a lot of concentration to keep her face from dropping as she watches the pair walk away.

“All right Golden Boy, what first?”

“Please don’t call me that.” As long as he answers to Grantaire calling him ‘Apollo,’ ‘Golden Boy’ will live on. “Maps. Then maybe the carnival games?” They silently accept that the other pair will be hopelessly lost inside of an hour, but that’s okay for Grantaire and Cosette: they’re personable, they’re kind, and they don’t feel morally opposed to asking for help the way that she knows she does and suspects Enjolras feels as well.

Carnival games turn out to be an excellent idea: it would seem that between her experience with con schemes, his perfectionist tendencies, and their combined competitive spirit, they make a formidable team. They’ve already mowed down four kitschy carnival booths and are now sitting down strategizing over their next move as Éponine singlehandedly devours the funnel cake they had bartered from the last devastated-looking game vendor.

She’s swallowing down a slightly too-large piece when Enjolras clears his throat, not looking up from the x’s on the map.

“Cosette is excellent at budgeting and planning.”

Éponine finishes the action before responding with a blank look. Of course Cosette is excellent at budgeting and planning, she’s perfect.

“She always steps up to help manage and prioritize club expenses. Absolutely invaluable. We’re really lucky to have her.”

“Hmm.” She sucks the powdered sugar from her fingertips, grateful she had the self-control to remove her fingerless gloves before digging in. “Shame she’s not here to help us plan our route, then.” 

The silence between them lingers. Éponine waits for Enjolras to finally take his first and the final bite of funnel cake before speaking.

“R eats ass like groceries.”

It has the intended effect, making Enjolras choke on the bite. Éponine decides she does regret the decision a little, if only because it’s impossible to distinguish the embarrassment from the struggle for life in the redness of his cheeks.

When Enjolras recovers (rather gracefully, to his credit), he asks, “Don’t you two usually eat out?”

She looks him in the eye as she answers. “Exactly.” Enjolras visibly gulps before returning his attentions to the map.

\---

It’s their fourth time wandering down the empty aisles to ride this ride, and the excitement has finally waned enough for Cosette to begin to hone in on her mission.

“My roommate hasn’t brought anyone home in ages,” she starts.

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” shrugs Grantaire. “Between his determination to single-handedly save the world and his otherworldly beauty, I’m sure he has neither the time nor patience for the dating scene of mere mortals.”

“That’s not fair, Enjolras doesn’t consider himself ‘above’ anyone.”

“You’re right, it was poorly said.” Grantaire sighs, pulling his hand back through his hair. “God, I’m just surrounded by such incredible people, y’know? I mean, there’s you, obviously, but then there’s Enjolras, and he just…I don’t even know how he can do it. Just. The optimism, you know? The belief in mankind, the work ethic, the intelligence, plus he looks like that? Doesn’t seem real that he’s even in my life. And then you’ve got my roommate, who has been to actual hell and back and is still such a rad human being, like. How do you go through some of the shit she has and still have the compassion to basically raise two kids in high school? And I know she likes to beat herself up for taking an extra year to graduate, but honestly, fuck that.”

“Right though?” Cosette may have invested some time into reflecting on this in the past. “I’m sure no one would ever dare say that to her face in the first place, but looking after kids in any serious way is already a huge time commitment, and she was doing it while going to school and working? I know she has her leather jacket and motorcycle and piercings and” Focus Cosette, focus “everything else, but I honestly think that that is easily the most badass thing about her. Like, it’s so easy to become hard to the world, but she’s carved out these soft spots, and that’s just incredible.

“But you know what’s also incredible? The way Enjolras takes time out of his busy schedule to look out for the people he cares about.” 

\---

“So. I know R’s work ethic in your club-thing sucks ass,” Éponine pauses to throw another carefully aimed dart, “but I promise that given the opportunity, he’d stay up all night to do you.” Another dart is thrown and makes its target. “And also suck your ass.”

Enjolras doesn’t react, which is just as disappointing as the last several times as it’s happened. They expend their last several darts and collect their reward in the form of tickets. During the strategy session, they had discovered that the whole park runs on a universal ticket system, and while they don’t have any grand plans for them just yet, Eponine suspects that they will by the time they come across the prize booth upon departure. 

“Cosette is extremely responsible and reliable,” Enjolras says as they walk to their next point of conquest. 

“I’m sure she is?”

“She’s always the first person I turn to when I need anything done.”

“I thought that was glasses-hipster.”

Enjolras flinches at the nickname. “Nope, Cosette.”

“Huh. Well I’ll be sure to pass that on to Lens and Curls.”

“Please don’t, Courfeyrac will never let it go.”

“I’ll facetime them over dinner, it’ll be lovely.” She wants to look over to see how nervous he is, but she reminds herself that it’ll ruin the effect. “Will you rely on Cosette to fix that?”

“In all likelihood, yes,” Enjolras responds with a level of confidence that surprises her. “Remember when things were falling apart with the animal adoption fair back in May?”

Éponine vaguely remembers regretting bringing and promptly losing Gavroche.

“Some kid had gone around unlocking all of the cages,” Now seems like a poor time to inform Enjolras that ‘some kid’ was her little brother and flower-hipster. “And it was utter madness. I had no idea what I was doing, I couldn’t even find any members of our group, and my cell phone was either lost or dead by then. 

“By the time I was finally pulling myself together, Cosette had it all but handled: animals were being collected and marked on a roster, staff was reorganized, tables were unflipped, and she still had time to talk me down.” To be honest, Éponine is still having trouble imagining Golden Boy losing his shit over something not related to justice.

She tries to ignore how increasingly impossible Grantaire’s task feels in light of the new information and elects to deflect. “Sounds like we both have impressively responsible roommates, then: R always prioritizes safe and healthy sex and keeps a collection of condoms in a variety of colors, textures, and flavors in his bedside table at any given time in addition to at least one on him every day when he leaves his house—outside of his wallet of course, for extra reliability.”

Now that she finally has her reaction out of Enjolras, she really only feels disappointed in herself.

\---

Cosette never drinks before noon. Never never ever never. But Grantaire suggests mimosas and the merry-go-round, and that sounds like an incredible idea.

So they do that exact combination four times.

This time Cosette is sitting on the dragon, even though it’s one of the few animals that doesn’t move, and Grantaire is sitting next to her on an extremely active zebra.

“But like, he must get it touched up sometimes,” Grantaire insists.

“Nope. That mane is all-natural. You really think Enjolras, of all people, would buy into—into Westernized notions of beauty?”

Enjolras swore her to secrecy years ago: she will die before she gives up his highlights. 

“That just makes everything so much worse!” Grantaire is laughing, and Cosette can’t help but laugh with him. “At least I live with Éponine, so I get to see her at her most human. Did you know that she watches Love Actually every year on Christmas Eve? Because before we moved in together, I did not, and now I’m locked into one of the most overplayed holiday traditions ever.”

“Wha? No way! That’s so” Not adorable, not adorable, not adorable “adorable!” Well, he’s drunk too. “Enjolras is that way about staying up until midnight Christmas Eve. The first time he was able to pass it off as working, but last year I caught him watching the Hallmark Christmas Special over some hot chocolate. The absolute muffin.”

“I knew he had a secret streak of holiday spirit! Next time he tries to tell me that Christmas is good for nothing but baptizing the youth of our nation under the tenants of capitalism, I’ll know. He won’t know I know, but I’ll know.”

Cosette giggles as the carousel slows to a stop and Grantaire nearly falls flat on his face extricating himself from the zebra’s stirrups. 

“All right my dear, I see no line and no point in pushing our luck on the mimosas. Care to join me in an extremely stationary double-seater goose?”

“Swan.”

“Swan?” he corrects without missing a beat, bowing dramatically with a had on the stilled zebra for support. 

“But of course, I can’t imagine more delightful company,” she responds, taking his hand and navigating further around the carousel.

\---

“R’s bed’s broken, can he sleep in yours?”

This time Éponine is rewarded with a look of confusion. They’re throwing—well, she’s throwing, because Enjolras insists it’s degrading to the employees of the institution—kickballs against a dunk tank button, and the employee looks like she’s getting a little tired of Éponine’s precision.

“It doesn’t even have a prize, we’re just contributing to a person’s suffering.”

“Arguably, that’s its own prize.” She says this, but the park really should have closed the dunk tank when peak summer season ended a couple of weeks ago. “And anyway, she was swapping shifts when we finished anyway.” Enjolras scowls at the ground when she says that, his hands already shoved violently into his pockets. “What, don’t tell me you wouldn’t have played if it was R in there.”

“I wouldn’t have,” he responds forcefully. “He may be an absolute pain in the ass during meetings, but I don’t think he deserves to be punished for offering alternative perspectives. The reason they’re so infuriating is that as often as they’re completely off-topic and totally derail the meeting, they’re well-informed and staggering in the perspective they offer. They’re frustrating because they’re well-placed and well-said. He’s too smart for his own good, but it definitely benefits us. And I would never want to discourage him from that.”

They walk in silence for a while after that, letting the words sink in.

“You know, if R’s that much of a pain in your ass, I’d bet some lube would go a long way toward fixing it.”

Enjolras colors, not looking in her direction.

“If his derailment of the discussion is really so frustrating to you, I’m sure he’d be willing to rail you to make up for it.”

Éponine could swear his face goes another shade deeper, and she takes it as encouragement.

“You know what else R has to offer that staggering?”

“I’m not playing party to his.”

“His dick.”

“Have we done this one yet?” He indicates toward a watergun game.

“The carnie running it doesn’t look worried at the sight of us yet, so I’d venture to say that we have not.”

“Good, let’s go.”

\---

Cosette is finally starting to come down from being well and properly drunk when they regroup with Enjolras and Éponine for lunch. Grantaire has been feeding her a steady diet of water and popcorn for at least an hour by the time they see the other two, apparently not having been quite so sensitive to the potent mix of alcohol.

“Over here!” calls Grantaire, waving across the food court. She’s able to pick out the unlikely pair immediately.

“Enjolras! Éponine!” she stands, crossing the distance to meet them. She hugs Enjolras first, who wraps her in a warm hug that he does not bestow upon a nearly wide enough audience. She pecks him on the cheek before reaching up to Éponine with whom she repeats the procedure, allowing herself to burrow into Éponine’s shoulder for a bit longer. She feels Éponine’s laugh and the vibration through her chest as she speaks.

“Did you get our little Cosette drunk?”

“It’s a distinct possibility,” she hears Grantaire say. He must have followed her when she got up.

She can already hear Enjolras’s huff of irritation and cuts him off before he can say anything upsetting.

“It was so much fun, Enjolras! We knocked all of the big rides out first, and then we just spent the rest of the morning on the merry-go-round! You should join us next time!” She finally has the sense to pull herself off of Éponine, but Éponine is looking at Enjolras with a smirk and seems to have forgotten to remove her hands from Cosette’s waist, and Cosette isn’t ready to remind her just yet.

Enjolras looks reluctant, glancing back and forth between her and Grantaire, but Éponine looks down at her and responds, “I may have to take you up on that.”

Cosette breaks away then, feeling heat rise to her cheeks.

“I think R scouted out some places with food Enjolras and I can eat when we got here,” she says, changing the subject.

“Great. R and I always split one of those giant turkey legs at these things, so we’ll scout for food, and Golden Boy can stay with you.”

They return to the table she sat at with Grantaire earlier, Cosette turning down Enjolras’s offer of a guiding hand. Cosette doesn’t realize Éponine has followed them until she’s already sitting.

Éponine leans over the table to Enjolras and quietly comments, “R’s into feisty blond twinks in red jackets” before winking and turning away.

Cosette’s still trying to understand what just happened while Enjolras stutters incoherently.

He suddenly turns to Cosette. “Cosette, I’m a feisty blond twink in a red jacket! Not sure about ‘twink,’ but—”

“Sounds like you’re his type,” Cosette comments with neutral amusement. 

Enjolras’s shocked expression shifts into a scowl. “She’s probably just teasing me. She’s been doing this all morning.”

She sighs. “You know, Grantaire’s been saying nothing but nice things about you all morning. I really don’t think he dislikes you as much as you seem to think.”

He still looks uncertain. “Just because he doesn’t hate me doesn’t mean he likes me,” he grumbles. Cosette elects not to dignify the comment with a response and turns back to her water. “By the way, would you mind if Grantaire spends the night? Ép says his bed’s broken and he needs a place to stay.”

Weird request, but that seems to be the watchword for Éponine’s interactions with Enjolras today. “Not at all, we’ll make up the sofa when we get home.”

There’s another silence. 

“When she says ‘feisty,’ do you think she—”

“Enjolras, I will personally kick your ass. Yes, she meant you.”

\---

They spend the afternoon in the waterpark despite the temperature, and Éponine can’t be bothered to make her roommate’s absolutely oblivious crush feel uncomfortable at a time like this. From the way Enjolras’s eyes keep falling on Grantaire’s torso, she doesn’t think she needs to interfere anyway.

Cosette, for her part, is adorable as ever. The meal seems to have done its job sobering her the rest of the way up—that and Grantaire’s experienced hand, she’s sure—and by the time they’re leaving the park Cosette’s cheeks and shoulders are pink from sun and exertion, and Éponine feels herself falling all over again.

Anyway.

They’re nearly out the front gates of the park when Éponine spots the ticket exchange booth. She indicates it to the blond. “I’ll get something for R, then after that the rest are yours to do with what you will. Get your thrifty planner something nice.”

She quickly identifies what she wants and makes the hand-off to Grantaire before locating Enjolras. He’s eyeing the biggest stuffed animal in the room, big enough that Enjolras had better have some bungee cord if they want to get it out of the park. 

He looks like he’s trying to calculate the stubs in his bag by volume when Éponine shoves hers toward him. “You have enough. The guys at the counter won’t bother counting, and we aren’t exactly saving them for another day.”

Enjolras meets her eye. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, Grantaire’s a cheap date.” She nods over to the man who has a bag of tootsie pops under an arm and is currently nursing one. “Oral fixation,” she whispers lasciviously.

Enjolras looks like he might have forgotten how to breathe, and Éponine turns on her heel to let him handle the purchasing of the prize in sexually frustrated peace.

 

Éponine and Grantaire get dropped off at their apartment for dinner, wishing Enjolras and Cosette the best of luck in getting the monstrosity strapped to the top of their car into their place of dwelling and promising to meet for drinks in an hour.

As soon as they enter, Éponine flops on the couch. “I was the breadwinner today, you get to make dinner.”

“I’m just microwaving some of those freezer tacquitos, so if that’s not good enough for you you’re on your own.”

“My hero,” she grins, kicking off her boots over the arm of the sofa so she can tuck her toes into the cushions.

She hears the microwave start its drone across the room followed by the creaking of springs in Grantaire’s normal chair.

“Éponine, what exactly did you tell Enjolras this morning?” 

“Oh God, what didn’t I tell him?” She begins counting off on her fingers. “Eat booty like groceries, slam him on the desk and do him all night long, a couple of implications about your massive dong—” 

“I don’t have a massive dong.” 

“That’s for him to decide. Brought up your intense dedication to safe sex ‘cause he seems like he’d be into that—by the way, he is, the freak—” 

“Fucking Christ Éponine.” 

“From your usual symbolism I feel like it’s more of a Jesus and John situation, but you’ll get there eventually. Did one of them work?” 

“He invited me to stay in his bed while he sleeps on the couch. He was worried about back problems, Éponine.” 

She sits up in disbelief. “Shit, I need to kick things up a notch. 

“Éponine, no—" 

The microwave’s beeping cuts him off, and Éponine quickly stands to go attend to the sound. “So, how did your wingmanning efforts go?” She has no expectations, just wants to change the subject.

“She’s really impressed with you.”

Éponine snorts. “Yeah, sure.”

“Honestly Ép, I didn’t even need to do anything. She spent the entire morning alternating between how great Enjolras is and how amazing you are.”

“Now I’m sad that I missed out on whatever they were putting in those mimosas.”

“Éponine,” says Grantaire in that warning tone that he gets any time she talks down on herself.

She shrugs with a huff. “Okay, so she doesn’t think I’m a total delinquent-slash-dumbass. So what? It’s Cosette. I’m not sure she’s ever said a mean thing about anyone a day in her life.” She takes a bite of the tacquito and has to let it fall back to the plate as soon as it touches the inside of her mouth. “How are these fuckers boiling and frozen at the same time?”

“You’re supposed to let them sit for a couple of minutes first to let the heat equalize. You do this every time.”

“We do this every time,” she corrects. Grantaire grins.

“And anyway, if you think that Cosette has never made anyone feel bad about themselves you clearly missed Cosette absolutely tearing this fuck with a swastika tattoo a new one this afternoon.”

“Oh?”

“He actually put his shirt back on.”

She settles back onto the sofa, laying on her stomach. “Tell me more.”

\---

The bar is close enough to a halfway point for the four of them that they agree to meet there. Cosette and Enjolras arrive fifteen minutes early and already have drinks when she spots Éponine. And Grantaire, him too.

“Remember, Éponine is cool. She doesn’t care about how reliable or good at budgeting I am.” She rolls her eyes. “I still can’t believe you actually said that.”

“They’re valuable qualities!”

“It’s not what she wants to hear! She wants to hear that I’m attractive, attentive, and sexually available. As often as she wants. Which, at risk of sounding desperate, I am.”

Enjolras huffs and is rolling his eyes when Éponine and Grantaire appear in front of them. 

“What’s this? Getting started without us?” exclaims Grantaire in mock-offense.

“If I remember correctly, a certain you got started at 9 this morning,” counters Enjolras dryly. Cosette meets Éponine’s eyes and makes a face: seeing Grantaire and Enjolras flirt is like watching an Attenborough documentary in real-time sans narration.

“I’ll have you know that they didn’t start serving until 10.”

The problem with Enjolras and Grantaire flirting is that the sexual tension is never actually resolved.

“Grantaire, can you get a booth with me? I’m afraid I didn’t have much to eat for dinner, and you always know the best food to get here.”

Both of their expressions fall a little, and Cosette fights an extremely strong urge to knock their faces together here and now. 

“I’ll stay behind with Enjolras then. Hold down the fort until you guys are back.” Éponine shoots her a knowing smile, and suddenly Cosette isn't very interested in leaving either.

She shakes her head: she’s on a mission tonight, and that mission is to get her dearest friend and roommate laid. She walks ahead, grabbing her drink. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Éponine move into her seat as she follows Grantaire around to a booth in the corner of the room.

“Cosette, you and I both know all four of the vegan items on the menu here and that two of them are nigh inedible: what is this about?”

“I think you should ask Enjolras out.”

Grantaire scoffs. “Right, first Friday after this great nation is freed and the people are liberated.”

“R.”

“He doesn’t have time for me. And anyway, I don’t see you doing anything about Éponine.”

Cosette sputters. “That’s—well—that’s different. You actually have a chance.”

Grantaire snorts. “If either of us at this table has a chance, it’s not me. Do you see the way she looks at you, ever?”

“Have you ever actually noticed how Enjolras interacts with you?”

“Disdain? Irritation? Judgment? Yeah, I get that.”

“Flustered? Fidgety? A weird sort of sexual confidence?”

“I can’t argue with that last one, but as for the other tw—hey, you’re redirecting me! You can’t use my own tactics against me!”

“Watch me.” Cosette realizes suddenly that a server is quietly waiting at the end of their table. “I’m so sorry. Another one of these, please, French fries, and…Grantaire?”

“A jug of the number 42, if you can,” he says genially.

When the server leaves (looking only a little uncomfortable), Cosette sighs, falling back against the seat behind her. “Éponine…I mean, she’s nice, but she never looks at me twice. Not the way I’ve seen her look at other people. I’m just,” she waves her hand in the air. “Too normal.”

Grantaire takes a sip from her drink. “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe that’s what she wants?” he asks softly. “Not the thugs that her parents run around with or the kind of life she had to fight against growing up. Just something safe and domestic.” He reaches out to take her hand in his. “I think you fit right into that.”

Cosette sips at her drink, emptying it as she turns what he’s said over in her mind. “I think you fit into the kind of life Enjolras wants better than you might expect, too.”

Grantaire sighs, mussing at his hair. “I think they need to get those drinks out to us a little faster.”

\---

As soon as Cosette and Grantaire disappear from Éponine’s line of sight, she starts in.

“I have personally witnessed Grantaire eat an entire banana in one bite.”

This is how Éponine also comes to have personally witnessed Enjolras shoot an entire shot out his nose.

He excuses himself to the bathroom, and Éponine orders her own drink. It’s still slow, and the barkeep talks with her as he fills her stein. “I can’t help but overhearing…are you hitting on him…for someone else?”

She sighs deeply. “With nominal success.”

“Hard to see how with lines like that. Here, it’s on the house.”

She raises it gratefully toward the bartender, downing half of it in one draw. 

When Enjolras returns, he begins speaking without hesitation. “Cosette is an extremely courteous housemate. She is very conscientious of established chore charts and cleans up messes immediately. Anyone would be extremely lucky to live with her, under any circumstances.”

Éponine narrows her eyes in confusion at the man. “Is she looking for a roommate or something? ‘Cause R and I just renewed our lease two months ago, but I’m sure I could dig up someone without a criminal record if something’s come up where you two can’t live together anymore. Not literally,” she amends at Enjolras’s expression. 

Enjolras sighs and orders another drink—not a shot, Éponine observes.

“She also has lunch with her father Tuesdays and Thursdays and calls him most evenings to hear about his day.” Cosette’s close relationship with her foster father is the stuff of legends. Éponine, by comparison, hasn’t spoken with her parents since she ran away with the kids at fifteen. “Clearly a very attentive, loving, and caring person. Whoever chooses her as a partner will be extremely lucky to have her.”

Éponine snorts. “‘Chooses her’? Do you really think Cosette is going to let someone choose her? Nah, she has her pick of the bunch, no way she’s just gonna settle for whoever just sidles up to her.” Éponine shakes her head at the notion, taking a sip of her beer.

Whatever Enjolras ordered is served, and he turns down the offered straw that accompanies it. 

“So you seem environmentally conscious or whatever. R’s got some condoms back home that are about to expire, why don’t you go help him put them to use?”

Enjolras makes a thoughtful expression. “I suppose we could try distributing them at centers, but it wouldn’t be very responsible to intentionally distribute condoms that are about to expire. I’m not sure I can really help.” Another beer appears in front of Éponine unprompted. “Did you order that?

“She didn’t, she just has a friend tonight who thinks she might need it,” answers the barkeep, wiping condensation from the counter.

Éponine nods in acknowledgment and finishes her first stein, pulling the second one close.

They both sit in silence sipping their respective beverages. The morning had been easy because there was a secondary goal, but now that there is only the conversation at hand and their drinks, the silence carries an uncomfortable weight.

Enjolras clears his throat again. “Cosette is very responsible about her personal sexual health and gets tested after every partner.”

“R just got his results back the other day. He’s clean and ready to fuck whenever.”

“I’m sure he is,” grits Enjolras uncomfortably.

Éponine is about to respond when someone taps her shoulder. “What?” she snaps, all of her irritation misdirecting itself toward the stranger.

It’s some girl Éponine has never met who barely looks old enough to have entered the establishment unaccompanied. “Sorry if I’m interrupting something,” she says, looking a little startled. “I just wanted to let you know that you two make a beautiful couple. Your kids will be gorgeous.”

Éponine has one thousand retorts that come to mind, and she can only imagine what sort of tirade Enjolras is about to unleash regarding heteronormative expectations and whatever else he makes it his life’s mission to tear down when the barkeep once again saves the day.

“They’re not together.”

Enjolras recovers first. “She’s not really my type.”

“Yeah, I seem to be lacking a penis and a substance abuse problem. But that’s fine, because he doesn’t have an ounce of realism or common sense, so the disinterest is mutual.”

The girl is frozen in mute horror as Éponine takes another swig from her beer without breaking eye contact, holding it until she finally leaves.

She can tell that Enjolras is about to lecture her and cuts him off before he can begin. 

“Angeles—”

“Enjolras.”

“Lemme put it this way: I’m not going to be home tonight.” She makes meaningful eye contact with him, staring until understanding seems to hit.

“Oh. OH.” Enjolras’s eyes widen with recognition. He looks back at where Grantaire and Cosette are seated, flush growing in his cheeks. “Do you think…” 

“I do think.” Unlike either of you, apparently. “Go. Please.”

The bartender assures that his card will be ready for him before he leaves, and Éponine watches as he walks to the other pair’s table. He says something that Éponine cannot even bring herself to hypothesize as to the nature of, and Grantaire stands, following him somewhere that Éponine can no longer track. She stays at the bar, triumphant and exhausted and ordering a celebratory double-shot.

When she finishes taking it, Cosette is sitting in Enjolras’s seat and ordering her own shot, and the two idiots are already out the door. “I love them so much, but they are absolute idiots.”

“I’m glad I only love one of them, actually caring about both of them might have done me in.”

“I had to kick Grantaire under the table to get him to go with Enjolras.”

“What a dweeb.” Éponine smiles into her drink. “What did Goldilocks end up saying?”

“I’ll admit, the exchange was smoother than I expected. Enjolras asked R if everything ‘she’ said was true. I assume that was you?” Éponine nods. “R told him that his bed’s not broken.”

“Fuck, that was smooth. Good job, Buddy.”

“So what did you have to agree to to get Grantaire to let you wingman on his behalf? Or is he kinder to you than Enjolras is to me?”

“More like he isn’t nearly kind enough to himself.” She sighs, bracing herself for the potential fallout. “Samesies. Said I had to let him wingman for me.”

“Then our roommates are equally cruel.”

Éponine pulls her mug from her lips suddenly, looking at Cosette in shock. The girl has her body turned straight ahead, but her cheeks are pink even in the dimming lighting of the bar, and Éponine catches her eyes as she looks sideways at her through long lashes.

Holy shit.

She clears her throat, trying to come off casual. “I guess you’re not looking for a roommate, then?” 

“Only if you honest-to-goodness think that Enjolras’s jacket matches your hardwood.” 

“Huh, I was wondering what he got from that one.” She takes a slow sip of her beer, trying to tamper down the burning of her cheeks and the flipflopping of her stomach. “So uh. I like your dress. Know where it’d look even better?” 

“On the floor with yours?” Cosette has a wicked grin across her face, and the bartender is already sliding their respective cards back to them with a knowing smile.

“Let’s go.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Inspired by [this post](http://dreamtaire.tumblr.com/post/175173029186/i-really-need-a-ridiculously-romcom-y).
> 
> Comment below--I'd love to hear what you think!--or visit me [at my tumblr](http://shitpostingfromthebarricade.tumblr.com) and drop me a line!


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